


Cops in Toyland 2

by Arwyn



Series: Cops in Toyland [2]
Category: due South
Genre: (The minute after), First Time, M/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4418426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arwyn/pseuds/Arwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Ray flopped backward, chest heaving. His arm started to fling to the side, but was caught by his half-removed shirt. Fraser’s arm ended up underneath his back, awkward and soon going to be uncomfortable, probably for both of them, but right now he couldn’t care.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cops in Toyland 2

**Author's Note:**

> Random and ridiculous sex toys now make me think of Fraser and Ray. I found a particularly blink-inspiring one, and in the ensuing conversation, HereEatThisKitten told me Cops in Toyland needed a sequel. I said no, a sequel would be boring and terrible. "I am super horny. You are super horny. We have never had sex before. Oh look we came with our zippers down. Uh." There's the sequel. She laughed forever, and said yup, that's exactly what happened.
> 
> So this is the sequel to _that_.

Ray flopped backward, chest heaving. His arm started to fling to the side, but was caught by his half-removed shirt. Fraser’s arm ended up underneath his back, awkward and soon going to be uncomfortable, probably for both of them, but right now he couldn’t care. A drop of sweat threatened to run into his eye, and he carefully considered wiping it away. Pro: no hair-gel-tainted salt in his eye. Con: he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to move for at least an hour, ‘cause that was the hardest he’d come in years.

And fastest, but it didn’t sound like Fraser was complaining none, working his own bellows over there.

“Holy fuck.”

Fraser -- whose own drenched forehead wasn’t spearheading an assault on _his_ eyes, of course not -- flopped his head over (Ray smirked as it took a couple tries) and raised one perfect, sweat-repelling eyebrow.

“Neither, I should think.”

His kick at Fraser’s shin was hindered by his pants, waist wrapped somehow around one thigh and another calf. He spent a moment trying to kick them off before realizing that was never going to happen with his boots still on. He spent another moment lying there, heartbeat gradually slowing to more human levels before he realized Fraser was still looking at him, and he turned to stare back.

“Not what I meant. You know it, too.”

“Do I? Ah. So it wasn’t a commentary on the angelic quality of, nor a certain amount of colloquial confusion about, our recent activities, then?”

Fraser’s lips were fuller than usual, redder -- blotchy, really -- saliva-slick and starting to chap, and they didn’t curve up, not even for an instant. Ray’d stopped himself from blinking, just to be sure.

“How do you do that?”

Real confusion now, that’s what the blink meant. Full eyelashes down and up, very nearly to the same position, maybe -- Ray squinted -- maybe just a little higher than before.

“Do what?”

“That thing. That thing with your, y’know, face. Been doing it all day.”

“That thing with my -- Ray, are you quite feeling well? Did you have any orgasm-related health conditions you forgot to tell me about, because really, I think we’re well past an appropriate time to divulge any such, considering.”

“Nah, nah, not that, s’just, I mean, you do this thing, right? Where, like, you say something. And you mean it one way, obviously you mean it that way, I mean, you’re the Mountie, but, uh, you also mean it the other way, the, uh, the _you_ way, ‘cause you’re also the biggest bastard this side of the, whaddya call ‘em, big mountains, lots of ‘em, out west--”

Gonna get wrinkles if he keeps raising his eyebrows up like that, but all those creases gave the sweat drops a path down, still away from Fraser’s eyes, dammit.

“The Rockies?”

“Yeah, them. The Rockies. So okay, you got the Mountie meaning, you got the sarcastic asshole meaning -- or, y’know, earlier, the, I guess the Ray-I-wanna-do-you meaning and _man_ am I going to have to revisit some of our earlier conversations with that in mind -- but your face, it’s the perfect liar, it never changes, sarcastic or sincere, both the same. So what I wanna know is, how do you do it?”

Ray shifted so he was lying a bit more on his side, head pillowed on his arm, back throbbing a bit over the lump of Fraser still under him, but that was okay, that was good ache. Even the tight tangle around his legs felt like a good ache, today. He wouldn’t’ve worn the boots with the laces if he’d had any idea the day would end up like this, but really, no one, except Fraser he supposed, could’ve guessed this was ever on any day’s agenda.

He was following another droplet trace out future wrinkles, until it got lost in the wilds of Fraser’s temple -- was that a gray hair? no way, it wouldn’t dare -- when Fraser finally closed his mouth, swallowed, licked his lip, and spoke.

“Socrates said that wisdom, true wisdom, could only come from first knowing thyself. Centuries later, Da Vinci --”

“Does this have a point, Fraser? I mean, not that I’m in a hurry, but at some point boot removal and pizza ordering need to be part of this evening’s plans, okay?”

“...of course, Ray. But Da Vinci made the point, ‘Great love springs from great knowledge of the beloved object.’”

“Yeah, and?”

This was a whole new thing with the face. He’d seen Fraser stunned and boggled before, but the crease between his brows was different now, a bit less slack around the mouth, hint of a dimple, like he couldn’t decide whether or not to start smiling.

“I…” Fraser cleared his throat, and Ray had to close his eyes for a moment as he remembered the other sounds he’d heard that throat make recently. “You have to understand that the number of people who have known me, really known me, is… well, not to put too fine a point on it, pathetically small. Even Ray, for years my best friend and the closest I’ve had to a brother since I was thirteen, loved me as well he could without, it often felt, much knowing me. So when you, well, express such depth of -- ow! What the hell?”

“What what?”

“You hit me! In the head!”

“You, Fraser my friend, were blithering. This is not the time for blithering. This is the time for soaking in afterglow and jizz.” Ray looked down at the remains of Fraser’s uniform, one suspender off, shirt rucked up (showing off the most delectable belly Ray’d ever seen), red sleeve clinging to the bed where the rest had fallen to the floor, and scratched his cheek.

“Well, maybe it’s the time for getting the clothes thing and food thing sorted out. I guess the love thing, too, if you have any questions, ‘cause I thought we were on the same wavelength here, but I guess you don’t feel right unless there are words, too, so okay, we’ll get to that. After pizza, though. And a beer, I’ve been wanting to suck one down since you explained about the beetle gag.”

“Spider.”

“S’what I said.”

“You… seem to have acclimated to this remarkably quickly.”

“Yeah, well, what can I say: you had some persuasive damn arguments.”

He still didn’t have an answer to the face thing, and probably couldn’t’ve managed it even if he knew -- some freakish Mountie/Fraser skill there, no doubt -- so his smirk slipped out after just a couple seconds. Fraser’s leg moved against his, crinkles spreading around his eyes.

“So you have no questions?”

“Didn’t say that. I got questions aplenty, I got more questions than Frannie’s got inappropriate shirts.”

“Such as?”

“Well, where’d you get that, uh, thing?”

“That?”

Fraser’s hand gestured vaguely toward the living room -- and where was that Mountie precision now, huh? -- where the bag he’d brought out from the Consulate had probably dented the floor, and annoyed Ray’s landlady, when they’d dropped it earlier.

“Yeah. How’d you end up with such a freakish sex toy?”

“Oh, I’d hardly call that ‘freakish’, Ray. Truly, in terms of, ah, ‘freakishness’, today’s collection barely cut the mustard.” Fraser pulled his arm out from under Ray and stood up fluidly, despite the mess of his clothes. He barely wiggled it -- Ray bet pins and needles were just sewing tools to him -- before holding it out to Ray.

“Yeah?” Ray grasped Fraser’s hand, and held on to his pants as he stumbled off the bed. He kept forgetting he was as tall as Fraser when he stood up; he’d never get over getting to stare into those blues straight-on, inches away.

“Yeah.” Ray broke eye contact and let go of Fraser’s hand, raising one foot up to try to get his boot off. Fraser’s voice held amusement, arrogance, intelligence, and Ray could listen to it for hours. “For instance, did you know that some female insects use a phallus-like appendage, called an ‘ovipositer’, to deposit eggs?”

Or maybe not.

Ray flung a hand out, smacked it on the dresser which was _not_ useful, and ended up hopping until his back was to it to keep himself upright.

“Fraser, tell me this has nothing to do with human sex toys.”

Fraser already had both his boots off, and suspenders both neatly back on.

“All right. This has nothing to do with human sex toys.”

He was doing the face thing again.

“Are you lying?”

Another kick, and Ray was caught up in the boot department. He shucked his shirt and tossed it toward the hamper, where it caught on the edge before falling to the floor. He shrugged; call it one point, maybe.

“Well, Ray, since you know me so well, what do you think?”

Ray finished buttoning up his pants, stepped on his socks to pull his feet out, and fixed his hair with a vigorous rub and fluff.

Fraser’s face had broken a bit, and was just beaming at him.

“Me? I think it’s pizza time. And then you’re gonna teach me more about your freakishly extensive knowledge of intimate accouter-ments. Without words, this time.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> End notes: Google ovipositer + sex toy at your own risk. It's something of an anachronism for Ray and Fraser's time, but this is fanfic. And that's a dildo that lays eggs in you. So, y'know. Maybe we can go easy on the realism.


End file.
